


Steel Birthmarks

by FlamingPotatoArson



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alteans, Angst, Anicent Rituals, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), But he won't admit it, Collen is abroad, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Dancing, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay, Getting Together, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don;t know what to put here, It's just a dance, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Kissing, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, OR IS IT, Pining Lance (Voltron), Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, The royal family have birthmarks that glow, balls, broganes, but only if thy're female, bye, castle - Freeform, lance and allura are twins, lance is flexible, royals au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamingPotatoArson/pseuds/FlamingPotatoArson
Summary: Lance is a simple street rat, and has been since he was a small child, orphaned at birth. Hunk is his best friend, who's family had to give him up due to money at a young age : essentially making them brothers. Altea used to constantly have conflict with the neighboring country, Daibazaal, which resulted in a lost baby prince, but after that a peace treaty from generations ago went back into affect to keep good relations between the two homelands. Every time a second prince of Daibazaal came of age, he'd dance with the second heir of Altea - only the prince has been lost for years. Lance never cared about any of that - he just cares that the royal family seem to think he's the long lost prince!





	Steel Birthmarks

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, Lance is a bit salty. You'll see why later.

"Lancelot has never graced his throne. It is time we bring my son home and change that." King Alfor was tired, the defense in his face softened, in the candle light. Weary blue eyes scanned the shadowy room under an elegant, heavy crown. His royal attire and cape meant nothing at this meeting - this was a man who had lost his son, and would do anything to get him back. Coran would do anything to help him, he swore again, on the plush sofa in the private sitting room with the King's waning hope. Anything. The lost prince was his second charge, and he regretted that he hadn't done more for him that night. Blaytz, Captain of the Guard, raised his head, stood, and drew his cutlass. "The lost prince will be found. It's been near 17 years, but he is an Altean royal. They aren't know to go down so easily." He grinned and chuckled in the yellow light. Several of the men grinned back, resolve, loyalty, and determination lighting the twin matches of hope and strength. 

"I would hope so." Alfor smiled fondly, a sparkle in his eye and a descions in his smile. "Men, dismissed. Hopefully, next time we meet, it'll be under better circumstances."

He pinched out the candle, but in the man's eyes a different flame brewed and roared. 

* * *

  _"He's gorgeous." Thick fingers carefully traced little feet and toes, a quiet laugh bubbling out of Alfor when a kick and a whine came from the baby in his arms. Lancelot looked up at him, watery blue eyes offended, before they drooped close again. Soft breathes left his tiny rib cage in a  steady rhythm. Allurance was already proving the much fussier twin, much more alert and selective than her smaller brother. She kicked and cried when a nurse maid held her, though Lancelot was content to stare at them and occasionally grab their hair. Allurance was the spitting image of the king : deep, dark skin the color of tea on wood, stained glass blue eyes, and short, white fuzz for hair. Lancelot looked like the queen: sun tanned skin, ocean blue eyes, and warm, caramel brown hair in short tuffs._

  
_They were barely a few days old, but already recognized their mother's voice._

  
_"Allura and him will be quite the prince and princess when they are older. Both beautiful. " Coran pushed back the curtain separating the queen from the rest of the room. Allura was sleeping in her arms. He leaned over Alfor's arms to take a look at the prince. "He had a small mark on his ankle. It looks like a stick with a curved blade - is that why he is called Lancelot?" Alfor gently turned his son's ankle. The smudged mark did hold some resemblance to a scythe, but it was too blurred and his ankle was too tiny to know if it would look like one. "Partially." The_ _queen answered, looking up slyly " But mostly because Allurance' s nickname would be Allura, and the letters for Lance are in Allurance, so Lance could be short for Lancelot."_

_"Such a clever queen." Alfor shifted Lancelot to be cradled between his forearm and chest and wove his free hand with the queen's. "Laura, whatever did you do to become so smart? Our children will have to do it too." She laughed quietly at that, mindful of the baby in her arms. "I have a feeling...these two, they're gong to be unstoppable together, they'd walk through Hell and back like it was a stroll in the garden to prove some point, trivial or not. They'll be so smart on their own they won't need anything special to be strong."_

_Coran and Alfor both smiled at her for this, but frowned when the curtain was pushed aside again._

  
_A general in the common Galra uniform stepped inside, assertive in his footsteps like he had not just walked in on the royal family. Galra were the people of another prinicple who were allies with Altea despite border and territory conflicts. The midewife house and trading center they were at was, admittedly, more thought of as Galran territory than Altean, but citizens from both were allowed to cross over. They, however, had to follow laws and reasonable customs out of respect for the other when they did._  
_"Your Majesties" he said, and then coughed into his fist, purple hair shaking with the force of it. "I have come to put your children under Galran citizenship." "Excuse me?" The queen asked, tightening her hold on her daughter. "Galran custom dictates citizens born in Galran territories be treated as regular citizens and therefore are required of the same responsiblities to mantain their rights. They must be taken and blessed by a church Druid, and live for three years in Galran land or territory. Then, they can return to Altea."_

  
_"I apolgize, but Allurance and Lancelot will not be coming with you for anything. They will be staying with my wife and I." Alfor stated as calmly as he could, discretely trying to cover more of his son with his arm. "So a king is above the law in Altea?" The general snarled, shoulder rising. Anger was turning the air soupy. Apprehension stirred the pot."You could commit any vile crime and never be punished? No such rules apply to you? Not here, here they do!" He lunged forward, jumping for the bedridden and exhausted queen. "Laura!" Alfor yelled, spinning around, his free hand flashing to his sword hilt. Coran leaned over her to shove him back, the royal advisor turning his momentum against him. Allurance woke up and began to scream, the sounds of her fear mixing with the sudden thunder from the raining sky outside. Tears ran down her face and Coran didn't hesitate to snatch her up and press her to his shoulder. Laura couldn't move and if Allura was in her arms, then she'd be a sitting duck. This way, Coran could protect his first charge._

  
_But the general was tossed back at Alfor and Lancelot._

  
_He smashed into the king, who let go of his sword to catch himself and hold his still sleeping son.  The general fell to the floor, but was scrambling up, and with a shout, pulled Lancelot from the dazed king. "One will do!" He shouted, running for the stairis. "No!" Alfor gave chase, running down stone corridors after the kidnapper. Anger and fear made him willing for drastic action and the general was lucky it hadn't been Alfor's sword. Torches and lamps lit the way, but the headstart and knowledge of the hallways the general had meant Alfor was at a disadvantage. Only when he ran towards the open air trading center did Alfor really have an idea of where they were._

  
_Grabbing the general, the king and him struggled. Lancelot was still miracoulosy sleeping (or dead the king thought at first but then realized a dead prince was something this man had no use for)and Alfor tried to keep him out of it for the most part. Several men were departing, but all were of forgein descent and without his crown, Alfor wasn't recongized as a king with how varied people looked across the kingdoms. So, a few cheered for the fight and the others went on their way. Two men duking it out in the mud wasn't uncommon at the trading center. One man was Altean, but he wasn't paying any attention to what he thought was another scuffle in the mud between two lads nor was he close enough to see it and realize it wasn't._

  
_"No good apprentices causing trouble," he grumbled, checking his stock of wheat and hay, scribbling down the numbers on an inventory sheet. "This is why I didn't bring Weinfield this year. The rain makes 'em crazy as a spooked horse." This particular trader was old, creaking rust settled deep in his bones and joints, but he wasn't unkind or unreasonable. He just rather perferred to avoid trouble. But trouble would find this man tonight when Alfor's cation for his son's involvement didn't stop a baby from being tossed into this man's hay. And the blessing of how quiet this baby was made it all the harder to find him for years to come when the trader set off for home._

* * *

 Cacophonous town streets bustled with people and voices. Woman washed and hung laundry, gossiping in a ring on the lip of the fountain. Men pointed and called to each other, heavy, thick buckskin pockets riddled with items like spices and meats. Children danced between legs, playing an uncoordinated game of tag, or snuck up behind adults to pickpocket. Musicians belated out music in the little corner crooked between two shops.  Animals keened and barked. The scent of spices, hay, skin, sweat, and bread was the potent Altean scent no one could quite get out of their nose. "Ah, c'mon Hunk! Wake up and say hello!" Lance smiled widely and half turned to his sleepy giant of a friend, mindless of the crowd.  "Aww man, Lance, I don't think I'm quite awake enough to say hello to the city." Hunk yawned, hand coming up to stifle his mouth, brown eyes bleary. A man with a sack of flour balanced on his shoulder sidestepped the hefty genius with a huff that Lance knew Hunk no longer paid mind to.

  
"Uh! Everyone is awake enough to say hello to the city! See, just try it, it's not hard - _Good morning Altea, good morning busy streets, good morning to those I hold dear, good morning to those who I have yet to meet_ -" he sang, bare feet spinning wide circles around his friend. Hunk snorted a laugh, reach out an arm to grip his forearm. "Okay, okay! I get, stop with the music you optimistic orphan." _"Just a child of the concrete, trying to get by,_ " He responded with an easy smirk and a shrug " _I am_." Hunk shook his head, shaggy black hair tickling his jaw. A bright yellow strip of fabric held it mostly out of his face.

  
"Man, they really are laying it on thick this time, aren't they?" A flyer for the lost prince was hammered into a nearby post, the same set of information on it as the rest.  So many had been put up that when it rained, the papers clogged the gutters. Lance reached up to tear it down, another on the other side of the post. _**Name : Lancelot, Age: Close to 17 ,Looks : Tan skin, dark blue eyes, brown hair, Extra information : Birthmark on ankle -**_ "Yeah, but it's the same as always. Some tradition or pretty ball or meeting is called, and they up the guard patrols and flyers, people who aren't the prince pretend to be him, can't fool the royal family, and the search fizzles out. He's probably dead if they lost him as a baby." Hunk leaned over his shoulder to see it. "Whoa, they raised the reward again. 250,000 GAC is crazy. That's enough to start a business."

  
Lance wiggled his eyebrows, sly grin in place "Enough to start a restaurant?" "Please! Lance, you know that'd be more than enough and it's not my fault I'm poor." Hunk grumbled, crossing his broad forearms and frowning, jerking away from Lance. "Sorry, Hunk. " Lance ammended, not wanting to make his friend pout "I'm just teasing. If you had restaurant, I'd go every day. Your food's too good." Slender fingers crossed, he childishly leaned into his friends space, vying for attention. "Hunk..." he whined, shoving his fingers in front of Hunk's face. "Alright, you're forgiven! I know you didn't mean anything by it." Hunk sighed resolutely, fondness creeping into his tone.

  
"Ya know, you'd kinda look like him." Hunk turned his head to look at Lance.

  
"He looks like the queen, Hunk.  Her ancestors helped found Altea, a lot of people look like her. Besides, Rolo and the others are probably up already! Let's go!"

  
"Lance, wait up!"

* * *

 "Allura, wait up!" 

Prince Shiro stopped and sighed, white tuff momentarily bobbing. Keith internally snickered at his older brother, coming to a stop beside him. Green, towering flower bushes invaded the smooth pathway, brushing against clothes or hair as people passed through. The princess was long gone. "You just had to get her started on the lost prince, didn't you?" Keith asked coyly, looking up at his brother. The blue sky was as clear as Shiro's exasperation.  Shiro huffed, creasing his elegant jacket by crossing his arms. " I just said he might not have a lance shaped birthmark, not that I knew a vital clue on how to find him. She's the one running to Coran about it!" 

Keith laughed "She's the one you're courting, right?" Shiro relaxed, a soft, slightly lovesick expression on his face. Keith didn't miss the burning red on the back of his neck. "Yeah..."The castle gardens made a gorgeous background with the bright robin's egg sky. Altea had much more to offer in the form of scenery than his kingdom did. It was a nice change for Keith.  "She's really dedicated to him, isn't she?" He trailed off, head ducking to see his fingertips fiddling with the thick cuff of his jacket.  His loose hair made a curtain around his head.

"Yeah, she really is. I can't blame her - if it was you missing, I'd be going nuts."

Keith hid a shy smile under his hair. "You wouldn't have gotten to know me."

"I'd still look for you. The ties of a family are hard to break, even through constant hardship."

Keith suddenly pictures a raging, rushing river, and old, torn cloth tied in a dead knot stretched across the banks.

"And you know what they say about twins.  Bonds the strength of steel."

Lancelot's and Allura's cloth must be twined with shining silver ribbons of steel.

* * *

 

"Even your name sounds like his!" Lance sighed, throwing the apple core in his hand against the alley wall, stuffing his hands in his pocket and hunching forward as he stepped into the bright sun, with Rolo, Nyma, and Beezer on his right, Hunk on his left. They painted a gaudy picture of street rats- with Rolo's patched purple patterned cloth pants and fake gold earring, Beezer's olive green leggings and cornflower blue tunic, his silver belt hanging around his waist, Nyma's swaths of blues and greys that always seemed to swish in an non-existent breeze, Lance's own dusty brown clothes with deep blue peeping through the holes, and Hunk's pale yellow shirt and orange and green vest that barely stretched over his giant frame, his cutoff brown shorts trailing into rags that dangled over beat up shoes. All of their shoes were beat up and in disrepair, except Rolo, who preferred to go bare foot. 

"I was named  _Lance_ because of a _birthmark_. He was named _Lancelot_ because he's some quizknacking fancy _prince._ I'd rather _die_ than be cooped up in some extravagant castle with stuffy royals." A wagon rolled past them, towering crates, one with a chicken inside, stacked in a tottering pile. "C'mon Lance," Hunk said as they started to cross the cobblestone road, "you gotta admit, it would be nice not to have to scam people for dinner." Nyma snorted. "If I was a royal, I'd have anyone who tried to scam me beheaded." Small children ran around them, chasing a torn cloth kite. 'Cut throat, Nyma!" Rolo exclaimed, tossing his head in her direction, googles and belts rattling. Beezer made some sound of recognition: Beezer never talked much. 

"What ever the royals do, it doesn't matter," Lance turned on his heel to stare them all down, walking backwards and giving a sarcastic shrug "people are still sick and poor and there's nothing they can do to change it." Venom dripped down his voice like dirty water fell from the gutters above. The shadows of the houses threw everything but his eyes into a darker shade.

"Lance..." Hunk sighed, knowing not to argue with his friend, and spotted a newer flyer in the midst of the rain soaked posters for the lost prince. "Hey, look at this."  Reaching into the soggy mess, he pulled out the significantly drier paper. On it, a woman danced in a red ball gown, with a man in a simple suit. " _ **Altean Ball For the Lost Prince Lancelot, All Citizens Welcome. No entrance fee."**_ Hunk read aloud, bringing everyone to a stop. Out of all of them, he and Beezer were the only ones who could read fully : Lance was close, but still a bit illiterate. "It's next Friday, maybe we should go? "

"Sorry, Nyma, beezer, and I will be a bit busy that night." Rolo threw an arm around both of them, chewing on some piece of hay, leaning forward between them to talk to Lance and Hunk. "But you two should go, free food and drink for the night. And maybe you could prove once and for all little Lancey-Lance here isn't the beloved prince.." He grinned and raised an eyebrow, playfulness overlying something Hunk couldn't place. 

"No way." Lance swore, crossing his arms and cutting them downwards. "It's not possible, and I don't care even if I was!" "Then why don't you go?" Rolo asked, getting a little more aggressive, "If you're so sure you're not him, it couldn't hurt to have the royal family make sure, right? Say...the princess?" Rolo was just pushing Lance's buttons and both Hunk and Lance knew it, but Lance blew up all the same. 

"Fine! I will! And it'll be worthless, the princess will say no, because _ **I won't be the prince!**_ "

Hunk sighed again. The things Lance got himself into. 


End file.
